into the woods

Maeve

She could hear whatever it was struggling behind her, but she didn't dare to look back. Fight or flight had kicked in and the Madame chose flight. Her chest heaved, arms pumping hard at her sides as she sprinted through the forest, not caring about the fingers of branches that tried to snarl in her hair or whip at her face. Maeve kept running. It was the only thing that made sense. Barely registering the voice that rang out behind her, not daring to pay it any mind for fear it was some trick of the wood, bating her to slow so it might snag her in its clutches. No, she wasn't stopping.

Wild eyes landed on what seemed to be a break in the woods, vaulting over a felled tree that blocked her path and landing hard, stumbling forward before managing to right herself. Just a little further. A little further and she'd be safe. She could cross the stream, put distance between herself and whatever it was behind her. Maeve pumped her legs harder, ignoring the way her lungs burned as she sucked in greedy breaths before finally breaking through the clearing, sun blinding as she faltered. Her foot caught on a rock or perhaps it was a branch, sending her sprawling as pain shut up through her ankle, palms breaking her fall but not without suffering the consequences of the rock packed earth beneath her.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush